The Honeymoon is Over!

All that endearing stuff that's happened since we arrived--like kids locking us out of the trailer or waking to Reveille every morning (0630 on the dot!)--are no longer moments that bring reflective pause or a smile.  Now they bring a grimance and a pillow over the head.  The honeymoon is officially over.  Reality has slapped us upside the head as if to say, "I told you so."  Now, nothing particularly bad has happened.  We haven't been to the emergency room and all the vehicles are still working.  Actually, the weather is cooling off now and the trees are starting to change color.  Generally speaking, it has been a lovely time in Alabama.  Yet, there is this lingering feeling of "can we make it 8 more months without killing each other."  While our trailer is the Big Daddy of the park, it is still a trailer and the kids are growing.  Hands and feet are within closer reach regardless of distance simply because there isn't that much distance!  So the kicking and hitting has started.  Sigh.  We all knew this day would come.  And while I am of the mindset that as long as no one is bleeding, I won't interfer, the problem is that in our small space the fighting happens on top of me!  I would love to eat just half a meal without someone touching me or showing me a booger.

We did find a babysitter (teenager, CPR trained) for one night so we could go to a benefit at the zoo.  As we were leaving, the babysitter was rolling the kids off to the playground.  Everyone was singing and happy.  I had a cute new dress for the occasion.  Perfect!
Less then 30 minutes later, in the middle of whiskey tasting next to the yak pen, I received a call,

Her: Um, Kai fell at the playground and his head is bleeding really badly...
Me: Ummm...(furiously doing first aid in my head)
Her: ...but I know that head wounds bleed alot and it might not be bad, so what should I do?
Me: Well... (and I'm trying to think of everyone in camp that is possibly home and sober!)
Her: I'll just go to the nearest trailer and ask for help and I'll call you back.
Click

I just stared at the phone then relayed the message to "Lonnie."  In my head I'm thinking that our night is cut short or that we are in for another round of ER tag.  But, the babysitter did say she would call back. Soooo, I think I'll try some of that blueberry whiskey please!  What, you want me to rush away from the only date I've had in 3 months!!  We weren't going to be crazy parents, we would be cool and wait, and try some of the canapes.  We did get a text back, and all was well with Kai and friends, no need to come home or worry.  We did have a wound to clean when we got back and Kai looked like "Massive Headwound Harry" for the night.  But no hospital.  But, I believe the evening was traumatic enough for the poor babysitter that she will block our phone numbers.  Not sure, just a hunch.

 

Oh the upside, we have new stairs (nice wooden ones not attached to the trailer) and a fully decorated patio for Halloween.  However, the Fall mosquitos, who are bigger and meaner than the Summer mosquitos, have hatched and it is again impossible to be outside without a Benadryl IV permanently inserted. Oh, and we all got our midterm exams back.  Apparently, the atrocities commited against the English language almost had our professors applying for disability.  But I'm keeping my spirits up that I will learn something this year, like maybe I don't want to attempt this endeavor on a sailboat!  

 

I Ate Goat Balls!

But first, "Lonnie's" home (his Dad is still not well but on the mend).  As predicted, everything fueled by testosterone magically started working upon his arrival.  I'm not kidding, the car started right up for him.  Acted like it was ready for the Daytona 500...stupid car.  At least the AC waited a whole day before working right, and "Lonnie" had to take the cover off and it was scared straight.  I can't tell whether I'm excited everything is fixed or annoyed that things only break in my presence.  Sigh..

Either way, things are mostly back to normal (whatever that is).  We were invited to a BBQ that was held by the Swahili class.  Swahili is just one of the 10 languages that people can take here.  I heard the words "roasted goat" and I knew we were going....no matter how far the drive!  I was just happy for an opportunity to try food that wasn't fried or from a chain restaurant.  There are a number of African officers in the school with us from Uganda, Zambia, Tanzania, Kenya, etc...along with the Swahili instructors, so I was hopeful the food would be good. 

Oh my gosh was it ever!  First off, the goat was butchered fresh (apparently you can just drive 10 minutes south of the city and buy live goats to butcher...wow).  So the Navy guy who did that piece is now nicknamed "Goat Slayer".  And then one of the African natives roasted it with all the traditional sauces.  There were other foods there and some African wine.  However, the best part of the evening was the ceremonial eating of the goat's balls.  No really...it's like a delicacy and supposed to give a man 'extra manhood' or something like that.  The native guys were all over it, and we Americans were skeptical, but some tried it.  Heck, "Don't Ask Don't Tell' was repealed, so eating balls isn't a big deal anymore! Ha!  Anyway, I wasn't going to try them.  I'm not a weird food eater.  I would totally lose that part of Amazing Race.  "Lonnie" insisted that I've eaten cow balls and turkey balls (I'll deny it forever!), so I took the plunge and I was surprised that they were really good!  Not that I'm going to be actively trying get more goat balls, but I won't run away screaming next time they are offered.

Field trip to the ER

The last weekend without "Lonnie" (I hope) started off well.  Ayla and I went to an outdoor ballet performance at the zoo where she danced around and ate cheese while the boys were at the trailer with neighbors who volunteered (suckers!) to watch them.  Thankfully, the boys behaved and I'm still friends with the neighbors!  On Saturday morning I had planned to run a 10K (free babysitting!) and had the alarm set for 0600 so that I could feed everyone and get to the race on time.  At 0643 I woke up, alarm having decided to take the weekend off.  I rushed around getting kids, clothes, and food and managed to make it to the race, drop Kai off at the free babysitters and reach the starting line with less than 5 minutes to spare!  SuperMom flies again!

I paced along with my friend, Maureen, and pushed the twins.  They helped out by screaming every time we walked.  Nice incentive to keep up the pace.  We didn't finish last (hooray!) and I was home with everyone by noon.  The kids weren't inclined to nap, but I was.  I put in a movie and tried to rest.  This was moderately successful until...

Obviously there was the occasional scream, which is expected with kids in close quarters.  But remember, my children have been working together to undermine my existence in various ways.  It started with the blissful quiet.  Then Kai got up on the bed and laid right in my face and said, "Sleep with Mommy?!" and I noted the sweet, sweet smell of chocolate on his breath.  There is chocolate cake in the fridge, but the kids can't open the trailer fridge, so now I'm thinking--what was he eating?  I doze a bit more, but am curious enough about what madness has befallen that I get up.  What I witness is nothing less than a crime scene!  The fridge is wide open, a stool pushed up against it, random sauce bottles on the couch/floor/table, a fridge door shelf half falling off, and the cake box is open!  I'm only looking for Kai so I can send him away to avoid the array of punishments floating through my weary head when Ayla joyfully comes up to me, presents her hands, and says, "Mommy look! Yucky!"  Her hands and face are dripping and covered with chocolate cake.  Kai was not the lone culprit.  Everyone gets cleaned and sent to their rooms, and then I go to my room, lay on the bed, and laugh my butt off because it was so funny!

On Saturday afternoon I get a call from "Lonnie" that his Dad was in the hospital ICU, so now his intended return home is in question.  I worried all evening but figured 'I've made it this far...'.  Sunday started uneventfully.  Went to the store, did some homework, and I was on the phone with a classmate when I suddenly hear the screaming.  Then I see Kai running to me with blood gushing out of his hand.  One look at the finger and I knew our next destination.  I quickly hang up the phone, grab a towel, keys, ice, and Kai (leaving the twins in the yard) and start running to the car screaming for help.  Another neighbor had their door open and I ran over saying "kids at trailer, leaving for hospital, help" or something similarly incoherent.  Bless them, they ran over as I got Kai in the truck and tried to contain the blood, which is now everywhere.  He is screaming and freaking out, I'm trying to remember phone numbers of other people to call, and drive.  Where is the hospital?  Frick!  Google Maps....thinking....did you want hotels?  ARGH!!!  Found it, good, navigating.  Reinforcements are called to the trailer for the twins and I'm headed downtown, all the while Kai is spraying blood in the backseat.  I'm telling him, as calmly as possible, "You're OK, and we're going to visit the hospital" and he's like "No hospital!!  Go to zoo please!" 

There is no where to park at the ER that doesn't involve a long walk.  Double frick!  I get everything and start running, my shoes have managed to untie themselves and my shorts are falling off (not sure why).  Thankfully, a screaming bloody child invokes urgency in the ER and I'm taken back immediately--I didn't even see the waiting room.  Kai's still screaming, I pull out my phone (take a quick picture because at this point no one is going to believe that all this stuff happens to me) and start Angry Birds, and we get 4 minutes of silence.  When the nurse came in with the drugs I almost hugged her and when the doctor suggested some for me, I almost accepted!  10 minutes later, Kai was sleeping.  At this point I realized I was at an ER without reading material and a whole book was at the trailer needing to be read for Monday.  Ugh.  At least Kai was comfortable.  3 hours later, we are glued and splinted and back at the trailer, none the worse for wear.  Maureen stayed the evening for moral and physical support.  And now we have completed all the required "things gone wrong" (car, house, hospital) during "Lonnie's" absence.  Hopefully, his dad will recover so that he may return to us soon.

Ha Ha Universe...Now Stop It!

I thought the madness would end with poop in the pool.  That's funny in a stupid-pet-trick kinda way.  So is the fact that the wild, ferral children have managed to lock me out of the trailer no less than 3 times in 4 days.  Ha ha, super awesome funny!  But generally we were rolling with these little inconveniences without difficulty and only 1 bloody nose (I still don't know how Kai did it, but I think he hit his face on the floor in some wild dance move.  Now he's addicted to getting ice whenever he bumps himself).

And then the thing that ALWAYS happens when "Lonnie" is gone happened.  The car wouldn't start (last time it was a flat tire while I was huge pregnant with the twins on a back road with no cell service).  I know right, the minute the man leaves, all equipment requiring his testoterone to function decides to crap out.  So all the kids are in the car, ready for the zoo, I turn the key, lights come on, and nothing.  Not even a groan.  5 more minutes of this then suddenly it starts!  Cool, but then I forgot something, turned the car off because I needed the key for the trailer, came back and....nothing.  Lights blinking at me as if confused about what they're supposed to do.  Kids are getting restless as visions of the zoo train appear to be slipping from their future.  My neighbor, Deirdre, has witnessed all of this and her wisdom "At least it stopped working here instead of somewhere else" was dually noted and did keep me from mentally murdering "Lonnie" for leaving me, once again, right before things are going to break.  Deirdre watched the kids while I switched carseats to the gas sucking truck and tried to reach "Lonnie" for the 6th time (what, are you with your girlfriend?  Answer the phone!).

He agreed that it may be the starter, don't try to drive it (um, and where would I drive a vehicle that won't start?), and he'll deal with it next week.  Wonderful, moving on, kids need their train fix or no one will be happy.  The good thing about the truck is that I don't have to disassemble the stoller to get it in the back and the kids are a little further apart which makes slap wars less frequent.  We managed an entire day with everyone staying clothed, no one pooping in public, and no bleeding.

So I entered my mid-term exam today a bit frazzled but OK.  The exam sucked, but all tests do.  I'm still dealing with public school frustrations but had a ray of hope today.  I started my Irish language online course (Slan!), so I figured everything that was gonna go wrong had happened.

Until I discovered the air conditioner stopped working.  No really, it stopped.  In Alabama...and it's still summer.  Apparently AC units need testosterone to function as well.  I don't need more blog fodder!  We have enough craziness than random machine failure is not neccesary.  So Universe, you can stop now.  Thank you.

It Was All Going So Well...

I swear I tried.  I really did.  But in the end, disaster struck.

The day started awesome.  We went to the zoo early and I had a game plan to prevent major meltdowns which would result in me having no fun.  Step 1: ride the train immediately (reward self internally for buying year long train pass), Step 2: reride train since no one is at zoo yet, Step 3: go to the playground for snacktime and bathroom break, Step 4: exhaust kids with walk around zoo and make Kai push twins (he actually kept pushing my hands away saying "no Mommy"), Step 4: take the train for 1 last time before riding the tantrum wave out to the car. 

We all went home, ate, and most of us napped.  Well, Kai and I napped, the twins were reeking havoc on their room.  But it was all good, because then we went to the pool on base, you know...just rounding out a great day with one of their favorite activities.  How do I safely deal with 3 kids at a pool you ask?  Easy, Kai wears the life vest and is self sufficient, while I'm in the pool close by catching the twins as they take turns jumping in.  Piece of cake!  Anytime there's a bathroom issue, everyone goes together.  No problem.  I'm supermom!  F-yeah!  Take that F-ing Martha Stewart!  Oh, how the prideful fall...

So we'd already gone to the bathroom twice.  Once to change the diapers that had become waterlogged and the second because Kai jumped out of the pool yelling, "Go poopy!".  So I figured we were set, let's continue the fun.  Yeah, that was until Ayla stands up on the side of the pool, reaches around, grabs her butt and yells "Poopy" as it's exploding out the back of her diaper!  I quickly jump out of the pool, grab Ayla and whisper "no more poopy, wait for the potty" (cause that's gonna work), grab Orion's hand and walk--no running at the pool--very quickly to the bathroom.  Of course, Ayla couldn't wait and there was a mess to be had in her suit that reminded me of why I'm a psych nurse and not a ward nurse.  I get her to the potty, try and unstick the wet suit from her without distributing poop everywhere, and the whole time Ayla is looking at me and yelling, "Yucky poopy, hooray potty!"  I thought we had it all contained on her body and suit, so clean up was a matter of shower and potty.  Meanwhile, Kai had been left in the pool to fend for himself, which wasn't a big deal, kid had a life jacket on and he swims.

Ayla is clean, and I lead everyone out of the bathroom.  Perfect timing because they had just started the routine "kid time out".  Apparently the pool makes all the kids get out every 2 hours as a forced rest.  However, Kai is not out and the lifeguard is at the edge trying fruitlessly to get him out.  Yeah, right.  I walk quickly over there and get him out, take the vest off and enforce a 'Kai's done for the night' policy.  I'm looking around the pool area and all of a sudden I see 2 life guards with a spray bottle and toilet brush.  It's only then I realize that we aren't in a 'kid time out', we are in an 'Ayla pooped in the pool' time out!!!  Yes, my little girl cleared an Olympic sized swimming pool!  I didn't even think she managed to mess in the water; I was wrong.  I was reminded of the scene in Caddy Shack as I quickly determined that pool time was definately over for everyone.

There comes a time in your life as a parent where, if you allowed yourself to be any more embarassed your head would explode from the pressure of public scrutiny.  So parents either choose to have early heart attacks or they run for the car pretending that their kid didn't just poop in the pool.  I'm glad I've been doing more cardio lately.